


lay it on my leather

by montecarlos



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Post-Canon, literally two riders having sex on a motorbike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: "I think you know why,” Maverick says quietly. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Fabio,”“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fabio feels the blush stain his cheeks as he looks away, but the Yamaha rider moves closer, reaching out to take the telemetry folder from Fabio’s hands. Fabio jolts at the contact, it’s almost like electricity passing between himself and Maverick, and his eyes flicker up to lock on dark brown ones. Maverick’s hand curls around his wrist, wrenching him upright.
Relationships: Fabio Quartararo/Maverick Viñales
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	lay it on my leather

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly do not know what this is, I honestly don't - my intention was to write some soppy sad Jorge fic for his retirement but then Maverick the fucking dick came out in that suit and those light up shoes, and well, these two interest me and it's been a while since I wrote porn so here you go, L. I don't know why I decided to make Fabio a virgin, it just worked better in the fic, I guess. Title is from Test Drive by Jin Akanishi.

“You rode well today,” The familiar voice cuts through the silence of the garage and Fabio feels the shiver that slowly runs down his spine, the warmth beginning to pool in his lower thighs. “Shame you couldn’t beat Márquez,”  
  
Fabio glances up from the telemetry notes that he has been scanning for the past hour. It’s been a few hours since the race, but Fabio hasn’t moved from his position since then. Even Tom couldn’t persuade him to leave. He curses under his breath, realising that it’s already dark and the garage is deserted. There’s just over an hour until the gala begins and he’s nowhere near ready, still clothed in his sweaty and dusty leathers from the race.  
  
“You drove well too,” Fabio murmurs, trying to ignore his heart slamming against his ribcage. “I mean, sixth isn’t too bad-”  
  
A soft chuckle cuts through his words. “You flatter me, Fabio,”  
  
Fabio worries his lip as he hears the soft footsteps draw nearer. “What are you doing here, Maverick?”  
  
The older Yamaha rider steps into the dim lights, and Fabio’s eyes rake over his body, taking in the black suit that seems to fit him like a glove, the diamond stud in his ear glitters and his shoes - which seem to fucking _ light up _ . He surveys Fabio with dark eyes, dancing around the question. “I hoped it would be you,”  
  
“Why?” Fabio knows the question is dangerous - they’ve been dancing around each other all season, with touches that linger for a fraction too long. Fabio hates himself for it. He was supposed to focus on his rookie season in MotoGP but he couldn’t stop thinking about dark eyes and how Maverick’s beard would feel against the apex of his thighs. There had been many evenings when his hand slowly made it way down his pants, Maverick’s name on the tip of his tongue as he rubbed himself, pretending that the Spaniard was touching him.  
  
“I think you know why,” Maverick says quietly. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Fabio,”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fabio feels the blush stain his cheeks as he looks away, but the Yamaha rider moves closer, reaching out to take the telemetry folder from Fabio’s hands. Fabio jolts at the contact, it’s almost like electricity passing between himself and Maverick, and his eyes flicker up to lock on dark brown ones. Maverick’s hand curls around his wrist, wrenching him upright.  
  
“Mack-” The nickname slips from between his lips as he falls against the shorter rider before he rights himself, trying to create some space between them. “_Please_,”  
  
Maverick’s smile is almost predatory. “Please, what?”  
  
“I-” Fabio wets his lips, not missing the way that Maverick’s dark eyes watch the action with interest. “I-”  
  
“Tell me what you want, Fabio,” Maverick whispers, his breath brushing against Fabio’s cheek. Fabio can feel the heat of his skin, even between their layers of clothing and closes his eyes as his body begins to react to Maverick’s presence - it’s to be expected, he’s never done anything like this with anyone before - but he doesn’t need Maverick to know that.  
  
“You,” Fabio murmurs. “I want _ you_,”  
  
Maverick grins, crowding Fabio against the wall behind the chair he’s been sitting in for the past few hours. His mouth attaches onto Fabio’s neck, his tongue moving to slowly dance over the sweaty skin. Fabio’s eyes fall shut at the sensation - Maverick feels good against him, the Yamaha rider is shorter but more compact - Fabio can feel the muscles pressing up against his body and his cock begins to swell against his thin leathers, warmth pooling in his lower thigh-  
  
“God, you moan like a little whore,” Maverick whispers against his skin as he bites down on Fabio’s neck hard enough to bruise. “So beautiful,”  
  
Fabio wants to reply, but he can’t get the words to leave his lips. Maverick has him pinned against the wall, teeth scraping against the soft skin of his neck, his knee pressed between Fabio’s thighs. Maverick’s tongue darts out to brush over the bruise that Fabio is sure will form, their eyes meet for a moment before Maverick closes the gap to kiss his lips.  
  
It’s all teeth and tongue - and he never imagined his first kiss would be like this, but it feels _ right_. His hand finds Maverick’s hair and he tugs hard, making the Spaniard bite down on his lip. The metallic taste of blood floods over Fabio’s tongue as his fingers move to fist into Maverick’s short hair.  
  


“Don’t you fucking dare mess it up,” Maverick hisses against his lips. “Or would you get off on me turning up to the gala with messy hair and marks all over my body from you?”  
  
Fabio groans in response as feels Maverick’s fingers slowly tug down the zip of his leathers. He gasps against the older rider’s lips at the cool air - Valencia isn’t exactly warm at this time of year - hitting his sweaty skin. Maverick nips at his lips softly as his hands move to explore Fabio’s chest, fingers dancing over warm, hand muscles, dipping down lower Fabio’s stomach -  
  
“Oh god, Maverick, _ please_,” Fabio can’t stop the words tumbling from his lips as Maverick’s tongue dances against his own, his fingers slowly slipping lower.  
  
“No underwear, you little slut,” Maverick hisses against his lips. “Or did you know I was coming?”  
  
Fabio answers with a groan.  
  
“What do you want, Fabio?” Maverick rips his lips away, his eyes searching Fabio’s as his hand inches lower.  
  
“I want you to fuck me,” Fabio blurts out, trying not to slip in French, though he’s sure that Maverick would probably enjoy it.  
  
“Now, that’s not polite, Fabio,” Maverick purrs, the smirk plainly on his swollen lips.  
  
“_Please _ , Mack,” Fabio doesn’t care that he’s begging. He feels like he’s going to explode, the heat is growing hotter and hotter, his cock pressing against his leathers, begging to be touched-  
  
“_Please_,”  
  
“You’re so fucking pretty when you beg, Quartararo,” Maverick smirks, his hand finally slipping beneath Fabio’s leathers to palm his leaking dick. Fabio leans into the touch, unable to stop the French slipping out from between his lips. Maverick’s hands are rougher than he imagined, the callouses from years of riding motorbikes rub against Fabio’s warm skin - but the touch is gentle, nothing like the way that Maverick squeezes the throttle -  
  
“So warm and wet, just for me,”  
  
Fabio lets out another guttural cry as Maverick’s hand curls around his swollen dick, pre-come smearing across his palm. “I want you to say my name when I touch you,”  
  
“Mac-Mack, please, feels so good-”  
  
Maverick’s lips find his neck again, his teeth scraping over sweaty skin as Fabio arches into the touch, Maverick’s hand slowly building a steady rhythm as he begins to get the younger rider off. Fabio can feel the heat intensify with every swipe, the warm fuzzy feeling pooling in his lower abdomen and thighs and he knows that he’s close. It’s to be expected, he’s never done this before.  
  
“M-Mack, fuck me please,” He mutters out. “I want you to fuck me,”  
  
Maverick pulls away from his neck, his dark eyes meeting Fabio’s. “Only if I get to fuck you on your bike,”  
  
Fabio feels his mouth drop open at the request. “What-”  
  
“I want to take you whilst you’re on your bike, Fabio,” Maverick smirks. “I’m going to fuck you whilst you’re bent over the seat, and every time you ride it from now on, you’re going to think about the time my cock was inside you,”  
  
Fabio shudders. “Mack, please,”  
  
Maverick tugs him over to where Fabio’s pride and joy stands, gleaming under the dim lights of the garage. Fabio bites down on his lip as he feels Maverick’s body press against his own, his hands moving to slowly pull down the leathers from his sweaty skin. Fabio shivers slightly at the contact, the sensation of the cool air against his skin as he feels a soft kiss against his shoulder blade. Calloused hands ease the leathers down further, pausing over Fabio’s ass before they slide slowly down his calves.  
  
“So beautiful,” Maverick murmurs as the leathers land in a pool on the floor of the garage, his eyes roving over the tattoos that adorn Fabio’s skin. Fabio shivers a little at the cold, feeling underdressed next to Maverick who is still wearing his suit.  
  
“Now bend over,” Maverick’s tone is demanding, and Fabio feels his dick twitch as he obeys, leaning over the back of his bike. He feels Maverick’s lips press against the tattoo on the back of his neck - an almost gentle feather like touch - and he shivers in anticipation. Maverick slides a finger into him with expert precision and Fabio gasps at the sensation, pushing harder against the digit. He expected it to feel strange, but it feels right.  
  
“Now, now, amado,” Maverick murmurs, his lips still ghosting against Fabio’s neck, tracing the inked cross. “Patience,”  
  
“Maverick,” Fabio groans, his dick is rock hard against the hard leather of his seat. “Please,”  
  
He’s rewarded with a second finger which makes him thrash against his own bike, Maverick whispering something in Spanish against his neck that he doesn’t quite understand. But it hardly matters when Maverick twists his fingers as though to stretch and the warmth floods Fabio’s thighs -  
  
“You’re so beautiful laid out on your bike, wanting my cock inside you,” Maverick says thickly, pressing smaller kisses against Fabio’s neck. “You’re so fucking tight,”  
  
“Fuck me,” Fabio demands, his lip caught between his teeth. “Now,”  
  
Maverick chuckles, and the fingers slowly pull free from Fabio’s ass. He almost cries at the loss, already missing the warmth and the sensation of being filled, as he hears the rustling of a foil packet being ripped open and the tell-tale sound of a zipper. “I’m going to fuck you now,”  
  
Fabio holds his breath, his hands finding the handlebars of his bike as he feels Maverick’s warm body slide against his own and the Spaniard slowly inches into him, it’s a slow stretch and Fabio bites down on his lip to stop himself from screaming. It _ hurts_. He tries to push through the wave of pain as Maverick pushes himself in further, his breathily gasps filling the garage. Fabio feels his fingernails push into the hard leather of his handlebars, the pain threatening to overwhelm him, when Maverick begins to move. Fabio squeezes his eyes shut at the slow rhythm, his teeth catching on his lip to stop himself from crying out. His cock is still rock hard, still rubbing against the hard leather of the seat, and he feels the heat jolt through his lower abdomen once again as Maverick slowly begins to pick up the pace.  
  
“You’re so fucking tight, Fabio,” Maverick whispers, his breath tickling the back of Fabio’s neck, his suit still pressed against the warm skin and muscle. “God, it’s like you’re a virgin-”  
  
Fabio freezes for a millisecond at Maverick’s words, but the Spaniard seems not to notice, if his pace is anything to go by. He suddenly brushes up against the sweet spot and Fabio can’t stop the groan that falls from his lips as he sees stars. Warmth floods his entire lower body, and he can’t stop his fingers from scrambling against the handlebars as he scrambles to push Maverick’s cock deeper into himself. “Oh god, Maverick, yes,”  
  
Maverick smiles against his skin, his fingers slowly tracing circles on Fabio’s hipbones, holding them to steady Fabio as he builds up his momentum, urged on by the sounds that tumble from the Frenchman’s lips, some of them he cannot understand. His hands slowly move to Fabio’s cock, still rock-hard and wet with pre-come and the younger rider gasps as Maverick’s thumb slowly brushes over the slit, his fingers moving over the sticky shaft.  
  
“Mack, fuck-”  
  
“So beautiful when you’re like this, Fabio,” He murmurs in his native Spanish, and that only serves to make Fabio groan harder, the warmth builds up against him as Maverick’s cock grazes over his prostate again, Maverick’s lips against the back of his neck as the thrusts grow faster in intensity. Fabio arches his back and comes against the cool leather of his seat, his body shuddering as the orgasm takes over - as Maverick follows suit. Fabio feels Maverick go boneless against him, his body twisting as he comes inside him. Fabio feels the smile brush over his lips as he listens to Maverick’s muttered Spanish, before the older rider collapses against his back.  
  
The two riders stay there for a moment, Maverick still inside Fabio, his lips slowly moving over sweaty, tattooed skin. Fabio feels Maverick reluctantly pull out of him, hears the rustle of plastic as he pulls off the semen-covered condom but he stays perched on the bike, afraid to move. He doesn’t think that his legs will support him at the moment.  
  
“Are you okay?” Maverick’s voice is almost soft.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Fabio blurts out, thankful his voice remains steady. “Yeah, I’m f-fine,” He slowly turns his head to see Maverick staring him with an expression in his eyes that he can’t place.  
  
“You should have said something, Fabio,” Maverick’s dark eyes are fixed on him as he holds out his hand to the younger rider.  
  
“About what?” Fabio takes his hand, allowing himself to be helped off his bike. He tries not to look at the telltale streaks of come that now decorate his seat, his attention drawn to the shorter man in front of him.  
  
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”  
  
Fabio freezes at the words, but they’re not spoken like an accusation. “Y-yeah, I am, well I was but I’m umm - not anymore. Besides, I wanted it,”  
  
“But I would have been gentler with you, Fabio,” Maverick worries his lip. “I could have hurt you,”  
  
“But you didn’t, you made me feel amazing. It was better than any pole I’ve ever taken,”  
  
Maverick grins. “You won’t say that when you have your first win,”  
  
“Guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”  
  
Maverick raises an eyebrow. “You want to do it again?”  
  
Fabio leans down to press a gentle kiss against the shorter rider’s lips. “Well, maybe next time, I could fuck you,” He murmurs, smirking as he watches Maverick’s cheeks turn pink at the mere thought. 


End file.
